


Should Be Enough

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-02
Updated: 2002-04-02
Packaged: 2017-11-01 11:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/356218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can't help it. Curiosity is like an addiction, one that I could never fight." Lex offers Clark some orange juice, and a little bit more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Should Be Enough

## Should Be Enough

by Lindsay Beth

[]()

* * *

A/N: Thanks as always to my best friend and beta, Nikki, who I just converted into a Smallville slasher. Another one bites the dust. Also, this would be my first fic posted for this fandom so feedback is a much-appreciated boost. 

* * *

I've got to get to you first  
Before they do  
It's just a question of time  
Before they lay their hands on you  
And make you just like the rest  
I've got to get to you first  
It's just a question of time 

Well now you're only fifteen  
And you look good  
I'll take you under my wing  
Somebody should  
They've persuasive ways  
And you'll believe what they say 

It's just a question of time  
It's running out for you  
It won't be long  
Until you do  
Exactly what they want you to 

* * *

I can't help it. Curiosity is like an addiction, one that I could never fight. I've had other addictions in my life. Most of those I was able to shrug off over the years, seeing that they were just ways to scream my independence, to show that I could do whatever I wanted, fuck up whatever I wished to fuck up. Or down. Or sideways. Or fuck any which way, I didn't care. The well fucked seldom care. 

I was as prideful as a lion; bold, ruthless, and malicious. Doing everything out of a haughty spite, daring to be struck down. Daring my father to strike me down. Finally the long earned excommunication from the city left me stranded in the middle of nowhere. A nowhere place, with a nowhere name, and a nowhere future. From nothing, I would strive to create something. As always, fueled partially by the simple spite to prove my father wrong, I set out with determination. I swear one day I will seize this world and mold it, just so he can see that it is mine. I will do great things. Greater things than his conniving mind, with his tactful limitations can ever hope to compose. Meanwhile I will bide my time, waiting with the coolness of a cat. 

If only it isn't for the fact, that curiosity kills the cat. 

It truly is your entire fault. Had you let me drown, I would have never opened my eyes to the site of your concerned countenance. That innocent look in your eyes muddling all of your emotions until I couldn't even wonder what you were concerned about. I was too cold and damp to be dead. I've always expected flames. And of course, that didn't matter. 

I had _hit_ you. 

There was no way my car had missed slamming into your body. The impact alone would have been enough to kill you. You should have been crushed, shattered, and drowning under that bridge. As should I have been. 

But there you were. Looking down at me. Your innocent farm-boy frame drenched, eyes voicing concern. And you actually thought I would believe I had missed. But I had _hit_ you. And you lived. 

The cat was ensnared. 

I wanted to know who you were. What you were. I wanted to know how one fifteen-year-old boy could 'coincidently' show up every time something went wrong in Smallville. Just another hero, here to save the day? But _how_? 

Driven by curiosity, I would like to say that my quest to figure out _what was so special_ with you didn't become an obsession. But it did. I would like to say that this obsession stayed simply about finding out what you are. 

But it isn't. 

Clark Kent, the sweet-faced farm-boy with puppy dog eyes, who wears his emotions on his flannel sleeves. That's who you are. You're still a hopeless teen, caught up in the melodrama of high school. You are young, and strong, and durable. And you are also something else. An enigma. A complex puzzle. Need to pull all of the pieces out and place them together, but I can't find much more than the border. You are like _nothing_ in this world that I have ever known, but sooner or later this small town will truly rub off on you. Nothing escapes the common routine of a rural sand trap, where customs bind those with even the brightest future to the same cycle of life that passed before them, generation after generation staying basically the same. Sooner or later this small town will take hold of you, and maybe even _you_ can become an dull, ordinary civilian. And then, I will never figure out this mystery. 

I really shouldn't come near you. I really shouldn't be your friend. Your father is right; I'm a bad influence on you. I'm devious, and will go about finding the means to get whatever it is I want. I want to know what you _are_ Clark. I want to know what it is that makes you so extraordinary. It can't be all innocent charm and healthy exercise beneath the sun. I've seen nice boys before, and they tend to be boring and break. But _you_ , never a moment you don't keep me intrigued. I'm snagged as if caught by barbed wire. Just something about you that makes you different than everybody else. I want to get inside your mind, try to sort through your thoughts. Oh, but I want other things too. You really have entranced me too much. 

I know you see through my generosity. You just don't seem to realize all of what I want. There isn't a moment that I don't try to set you up with that Lang girl is there? Pretty little doe, but she isn't what you need. But you're young, still ever so nave, and believe it or not I _do_ understand schoolboy crushes. Of course I'll tell you that you're like the brother I've never had the chance to teach. I want to help you learn about this world, the various aspects that everyone else will shelter you from. Believe it or, the world isn't all sunshine and daisies. But then... _You_ already know that, don't you? 

Curiosity and obsession will be the end of me, I can tell. I'm all tied up in pink yarn, always _so close_ to unraveling it. Eventually I will run out of time, and what then? 

No. It won't happen. The world, the secret... _You_ , will all someday be mine. 

And that should be enough. 

* * *

Fresh squeezed orange juice. It is always nice to have something delicious to start the day off with. That's why I'm waiting for Clark to show up. 

As a delivery boy, Clark is usually on time, unless a mysterious disaster occurs. I can always count on seeing him come in, usually with a warm greeting and vegetables. On slow mornings like this, when I actually don't have a thousand things to attend to, it's nice to stop and converse with Clark. Strengthen our new friendship a little further. Get him to open up some more. Making sure I behave myself. 

Right on schedule, Clark comes in with the large paper bag and smiles a hello towards me. It really is pathetic how warmhearted and _sweet_ he seems, and yet I still have the urge to shove my tongue down his throat 

/ _No_. If you jump him he'll most likely be frightened away, and all this hard work will be for nothing.// 

"Clark," I greet. "Good morning." 

" Morning, Lex." He replies, putting the bags on the kitchen island. "How's it going?" 

"Well, considering the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, it seems like it'll be a sickeningly beautiful day." I tell him, hoping my smile is merely a kind one. 

I can't help it. It's been a long, hard, stressful week and seeing Clark is making that all better. Amazing what a ray of sunshine can do, mostly a ray of sunshine whose shivering nearly naked image I can't erase from my mind. I'm hungry, and that isn't good. I could just give into my hunger, but Clark is smiling at me, friendly and charming and how could I possibly take advantage of that? Very easily. 

"Would you like something to drink?" I ask. "Orange juice, milk, vodka?" 

He blushes, as I knew he would, and shakes his head. "No thanks." He says. "I'm fine." 

Any other day I would be content just to tease him, but there's just something special about today. Must be those damn chirping birds. Note to Self: Pay to have them removed. 

"So, how long will I be blessed with your company today, Clark?" I ask. "Seeing as though I refused to take any appointments today, I actually have time for the simpler things in life. Rest, relaxation, one of those other words that start with R that people seem to praise so highly." 

Clark grins and leans against the counter of the island. "I could tell you weren't busy today." He says. "No other way you would allow your attire to have a fault." He reaches out and straightens my collar, which I hadn't realized was turned upward. Without thinking I reach up and snatch his hand away, instinct working against me. Or for me. Meeting his surprised grey-blue eyes I don't let go of his hand. 

"So you've discovered my secret." I say with a joking smile. "I'm not actually flawless." 

Odd, the way his breath catches as he stares back at me. And when he speaks he tries not to sound flustered. "I'm shocked. And here I thought you were perfect." 

Now I cannot help the predatory grin. "Ah, but we all have flaws. The trick is simply making others not realize." I press a kiss to the back of his hand, then turn it over and press another one to his wrist, snaking my tongue out for a moment before leaving the tender skin with a more chaste kiss. "You just must see through me too well." 

Clark is now staring at me like I just dismantled a girl scout. Damn my impatience and slip of control. He's just too much of a... temptation. I want him. Now. And for once, I can't find a reason to stop. 

"I want to fuck you." I state, moving closer. 

His jaw drops. Good. I take full advantage, as I should, and shove my tongue somewhere towards the vicinity of his throat. 

Clark lets out a surprised sound that, given the action taking place in his mouth, comes out half mewl half squeak. Which is rather precious. I drop his wrist and fist my hand in the back of his hair, pulling his head down for easier access. We really should be producing farm boys for the market, not fertilizer, they would sell so much faster and, ohh, such better uses. I'm quite unhappy when Clark finally pushes himself away. 

"Lex," He gasps. "We can't--" 

"And why not?" 

The question stumps him for a moment, but then Clark remembers that _he_ was raised with morals. 

"It isn't right. I'm too young... You shouldn't have to, I mean..." 

I notice the fact that he left out the whole male on male issue. Well then, welcome to Smallville. 

"Clark, do you _feel_ too young?" I ask, pressing up against. "You're mature for your age, don't you think you can handle this?" 

His eyes are wide and he looks frightened. The poor thing. "It's too dangerous." He says. "I... I don't want to hurt you." 

"I'm not asking to be hurt." I tell him plainly. "I'm asking for you to let me fuck you. Please, Clark?" I ask. "Trust me?" 

He tenses up and I can see a struggle going through his mind. Just why are those wheels turning so hard? 

"I do trust you." He finally says quietly. "I just... Don't know if I can trust myself." 

Aha. Do I dare pry further? Will it get me anywhere? Maybe, but unfortunately my libido won't let me care. Later I'm going to curse this adrenaline rush for destroying a clear chance at digging farther into his secret, but right now, I don't give a fuck. I. Want. Him. Now. 

"Let me make this simple for you, Clark." I tell him. "I like you. You like me. I'm going to jump you no matter how much we debate, so you might as well just give in now. I would apologize but you know that isn't my style. You are just too _beautiful_ , and just too _hot_ , and just too _much_ for me to fight this craving. Answer yes or no, I will still have you." 

He lets out a sharp breath. "Lex..." 

"Do you understand?" 

After a pause, he nods, cheeks burning red as he resigns. Good. I go back to what I should have been doing this entire time instead of talking and return to pervading his mouth. 

This time Clark kisses back, slowly at first, but eventually with a youthful enthusiasm. I slip off his flannel shirt. And then slip my hands under his other shirt. Too many layers, too little time. Pinching a nipple I take the moment when Clark gasps to pull back and drag his shirt over his head. He cooperates and soon the situation is a lot better. How many square feet of hot, toned, farm boy flesh can I run my hands over? And how about my tongue, which by the way has been working on his collar bone and now traces a path down his chest, to his stomach... 

" Lex." Clark gasps, hands grasping my shoulder in a sudden tightening grip. 

"Yes?" I ask, only to look up and meet the pleading look in his eyes. I smile. "Oh, I'm sorry." I say ironically. "Did I forget something?" 

He smiles at me, or at least tries to smile as his chest rises and falls and then he pulls me close and kisses me, sealing his mouth over mine. His fingers fumble with the top button to my shirt and I try not to chuckle. Clumsy, and there is no chance in hell it will take him less than ten minutes to undo the button at this rate. I brush his hands away and undo the buttons myself, all the while kissing him, slowly, sensually. Not shocking that that's the way Clark likes it, but I'm opting to get him all hot and bothered now. The image of Clark on my bed, writhing and panting against silk sheets suddenly pops into my mind. 

But I'm too damned impatient. 

Finally I throw my shirt aside. Good enough. And pull away from Clark's mouth. He follows, striving to capture my mouth again, but I move to his neck. Trailing my tongue down the side I taste salty flesh with the hint of something fresh, green, country I presume. Suddenly I'm ravenous. Sucking and licking I work my path but down to where I was stopped, and when Clark's hands grasp my shoulders again I remove them and place them against the counter edge as I glide to my knees. I can hear Clark panting; feel the thrum of his body as his chest moves up and down. Clutching his hips I know that I have no need to go gentle. Clark is durable. This is one boy who could take a beating. 

Ohh, and the thoughts begin again. 

My hands quickly unfasten his jeans, and soon I'm tugging them down passed his knees, to his ankles. I hear his strangled gasp as I breath cool air over his growing erection through the thin cotton of his boxers. They're plaid patterned. How shocking. 

" Lex..." Clark moans, and I grin to myself. This is so easy, so easy. 

"Yes, Clark?" I ask, feeling like a lion crouched in a bush. My gazelle may not be weak nor, dear god, small, but he is the perfect prey. 

"Please." He gasps, knowing very well that he doesn't know what he is asking for. But, he's begging already, which I like. 

I lick across his taught stomach, loving the way the muscles tense. My hands grasp his hips, the curve of bone defined just like all of his features. I use my thumbs to massage teasingly beneath his boxers. The small choked whimper Clark makes is enough to drive me mad. Oh, the lovely sounds this boy makes. 

I growl hungrily, and then thrust my tongue into his navel, dragging more of those wonderful sounds from him. I continue to tongue fuck him, slowly, entirely intoxicated by the choked whimpers, the moans. His hips rock forward but I can tell he's fighting it. All of his body is tense, and as I finally take care to slide his boxers off I can feel how hard the muscles in his thighs are. Of course, that wouldn't be all that's hard. 

" _Lex_ ," he begs. "Oh _please._ " 

I pull back, arching an eyebrow as I look up at him. "Yes, beautiful?" I tease. 

He hisses in frustration, meeting my eyes. So desperate. So needy. For what? My hands, my mouth? I'm flattered. 

"Lex." He repeats, and his voice is like a rumbling growl. So fucking sexy. 

"Okay, fine, fine." I reply, grinning at his lust clouded features. So _beautiful_. 

Finally, assuaging his suffering I go back to where I left off, and then some. Skipping the teasing I take his cock into my mouth, swallowing as much of him as I can. I haven't had as much practice lately as I used to, so it takes a moment to adjust. It's all worth it though, to hear that tortured moan escape Clark's lips. So close to coming, but the ride isn't over. I swallow again and his body arches back. He's spluttering incoherent words, pleas. I roughly tongue the underside of his cock and then slide down the shaft. 

Control. Power. He gives me all of these. 

Languidly I swirl my tongue around the tip of his cock. I suck, lick, and tongue him until his legs are shaking. I'm flicking my tongue over the head of his cock when his breath catches. His body tenses and I know this is the end. With a cry that sounds suspiciously like my name Clark Kent comes, hot and heavy into my mouth. I swallow carefully, sucking him through the aftershocks. It was so amazing that I didn't even hear the cracking of something breaking as he first cried out. Finally, when I know he's spent, I lick clean what I missed, and lean back. 

Clark's whole body sags, as if the weight of the world has been lifted off his shoulders. He trembles slightly, eyes shut and breath fighting to steady. I take the chance to fully appreciate the view of him, completely naked, a subject to my mercy. I wipe my mouth neatly and prepare to stand up. 

Clark's eyes snap open suddenly, locking on to me. My breath catches. His hands are on my upper arms and he's pulling me up. Lifting and spinning me, as if effortlessly, he seats me on the counter and then wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a deep kiss. One of his hands goes for the button of my pants, actually succeeding this time, and in a moment I'm being freed by the confines of my all too tight slacks. His large, warm palm wraps around my shaft and he begins stroking meat a torturously slow pace. I can tell it's only for retaliation though, because as his other hand cups the base of my skull he pulls me close, kissing me fiercely, and his pace quickens. 

Now _I'm_ the one moaning. 

His lips release mine, and that bruising, ravenous mouth goes to my neck, doing such wickedly pleasurable things that I _know_ I'll be wearing turtlenecks the rest of the week. There's a hand on my cock, stroking me into sublimity, and now his other plays over my stomach, firm and testing. Gliding up over my chest to roll a nipple between two firm fingers. Between all these stimuli and the fact that I was already turned on so completely, I'm only a step away from coming. 

"Clark." I gasp as his tongue snakes over my pulse point. 

I lean forward, burying my face in his neck, breathing in his heat. He continues to lick my neck, my collar. His hand tightens and I squeeze my eyes shut as I feel climax approaching. 

"Oh, fuck." I growl, and I'm there. Blind from the world, yanked apart and held together, barely grounded by the solid body I'm pressed against. 

When I open my eyes I can feel Clark kissing my skin, gently, sweetly. His hands are rubbing my back soothingly. I'm a mess. This is obviously one pair of pants I'll never be wearing again. 

"You devious creature." I murmur, and I can _feel_ Clark smiling. 

"I was taught by the best." He tosses back, and I could almost be proud. 

I pull back, lifting his chin so I can look into his eyes. Grey-blue and sated, brimming as always with emotion. I smile. He's beautiful. And he's _mine_. 

"I'm glad you learn fast." I tell him, and then kiss his forehead. The tip of his nose. His eyes. Looking at him I've never had such a strong connection with anything before. I lick across his lips, and then kiss him. Slow and deep. A lover's kiss. 

He is unlike anything in this world. 

"Well, Clark." I say once the kiss has ended. "I don't think I can send you home like this." 

He takes a moment and then realizes what I mean, and his eyes go wide. His body and manner reek of sex, and there is no way he can pass this off as the effects of a midday jog. I spare him from troubling himself further. 

"Come upstairs. A shower should work." I tell him. 

"Shower?" He asks. 

I let my eyes rove over him slowly, and then grin wickedly. "A _long_ shower." 

He swallows, and then helps me down from the counter. I gesture for him to not bother himself with his clothes yet, and then notice something. The edge of the counter is crushed in two places, dented where Clark's hands have been. I stare for a moment. And then look up at him. 

"Never mind." I say, meeting his eyes. "For once, never mind." 

I take him by the wrist, and lead him out of the room. 


End file.
